


Five Times Carol Helped The Avengers With Their Trauma

by starstruckroman



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky has Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Carol Danvers has Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Flashbacks, M/M, Panic Attacks, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Sam Wilson has Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Steve Rogers has Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 02:53:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19368535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starstruckroman/pseuds/starstruckroman
Summary: ...and one time the Avengers helped Carol with hers.





	1. 1 - Steve

"Ms. Danvers, Captain Rogers appears to be in distress," FRIDAY's voice reported from the ceiling.

Carol looked up, frowning. "Why are you telling me?"

"He seems to be having a panic attack, and you are the closest person and can get to him the fastest," FRIDAY explained, sounding almost apologetic.

Carol stood, uttering a soft, "Well fuck," before making her way to the elevator. "Where's Steve?"

"Captain Rogers is in his gym," FRIDAY answered. "Taking you there now."

If it seemed the elevator was faster than normal, Carol didn't comment on it. When the doors opened, she stepped out and jogged toward Steve's gym. "Can you let him know I'm coming?" Carol asked softly, slowing a bit.

"Of course, Ms. Danvers."

The door beeped quietly as Carol rested her hand on it, unlocking the gym and stepping inside. "Hey, Steve," she called, blinking in shock at the scene before her.

It appeared that Steve had been having a rough morning. He'd broken three punching bags, the sand inside them strewn on the ground. He was pressed up against the wall, curled in on himself and trembling violently. His frantic gasps reached Carol's ears and she frowned, understanding curling inside her.

"Steve, I'm going to come closer to you, okay?"

When she received no response Carol stepped over the piles of sand, heading toward him. The man wrapped his arms tighter around himself, twisting away from Carol.

"Hey, no, I'm here to help you, okay?" Carol sat down near Steve. She noticed a telltale glaze in his eyes, informing her that he wasn't presently in the gym right now. Wherever he was, he was not having a good time. "Steve, you're in the gym. You're at the Avengers Tower, and you're safe, okay?" She shuffled closer, going to rest a hand on his leg. Steve flinched away from the touch, and Carol withdrew her hand. "Okay, no touch, that's fine."

After a few moments Steve's flashback was over, and he choked on his breath and let out a soft sob. Carol felt her heart strain, and she lowered her tone, keeping her voice gentle, and said, "Now, can you take a deep breath in for me?"

Steve looked up at Carol, and the traumatised expression that rested there broke Carol's heart. Steve nodded and uncurled slightly, shuddering as he inhaled shakily.

"Yea, that's it Steve. Just like that." Carol hesitated. "Can I touch you?" She asked softly.

At Steve's approving nod, Carol rested a gentle hand on his shoulder. "You're here. You're in the Avengers Tower, in your gym. Whatever you were seeing isn't happening." She murmured soft reassurances, taking Steve's responses in stride. When he whimpered and curled up again, Carol was ready to offer more support before realising that his breathing had evened out slightly.

"Sorry," Steve rasped, not looking up.

"No, no apologising," Carol chided gently. "It wasn't your fault."

"I-" Steve broke off, shuddering with a small breath. "Okay. Thank you."

Carol smiled a little bit at Steve. "Of course." She hesitated, listening to Steve's breathing, before asking softly, "What was it about? If you want to talk."

Steve tensed, crossing his arms over his chest in an attempt to hide his shaking hands. His pride was smashed to pieces, but he still wanted to retain even a little bit of dignity. "It- um… it was a lot of stuff. The Valkyrie, Bucky falling from a train, the war… that sort of stuff." He stared adamantly at the ground.

Carol smiled comfortingly at him. "Yeah, that's understandable. I know I still… have moments where I'm not sure if this is real." She skirted around her own problems, instead returning the focus to Steve. "Have you thought about telling the others about this? How often do you have these?"

"Um, about two a week, depending on if it’s a good or bad week. Uh… I haven't told the others, no,"

"It'd probably be helpful if you did," Carol suggested. "But it's up to you. I won't force you to do anything."

Steve seemed lost in thought for a few moments. "I might… tell them. I dunno. Um… if I did, it wouldn't be weird to ask if you could be there, would it?"

"No, it wouldn't be weird," Carol said, laughing a bit. "I'll be there with you if you want me to."

Steve deflated slowly. "Okay, yeah. Thanks."

 

Carol decided to give Steve about two days before letting the rest of the team know he needed help and support. After calming him down from another panic attack (one that made Carol's heart ache, due to his desperate whimpers and cries of,  _"Bucky!"_ ), Carol slowly lead Steve into the living room. They had discussed earlier that Carol would only speak if he needed help explaining, though Carol doubted he would need to.

"Hey, guys," Steve said. "Uh, could you- could you pause that? I'd like to speak to you for a moment."

Clint looked up, mouth open and reading to say something snarky, but he noticed Steve's expression. It shocked him into silence, and Steve had to restrain himself from shrinking back. Carol noticed the way his muscles tensed, as if he was getting ready to flee.

"Sure, what's up, Stevie?" Bucky asked, standing. He had also caught onto Steve's discomfort, and wanted to help his boyfriend.

Steve exhaled, and Carol picked up on his stress in the way his eyes darted around the room, noting every possible exit. "Um. I- Carol said that it would probably be good for me to uh, talk about this stuff so um… here I am, talking about it."

None of the Avengers - apart from Carol and obviously Bucky - had seen Steve this embarrassed and unsure of himself. They were immediately on high alert. Even Bucky looked concerned. Carol rested a gentle hand on Steve's arm; a silent prompt to continue speaking, before he lost his nerve.

"Okay, so. Uh, you all know about how I crashed the Valkyrie into the ocean. Well, I didn't freeze or pass out immediately. Um." Steve broke off, looking at the Avengers. They had varying levels of shock, horror or sympathy for him. He looked at his feet and continued. "And uh. Before that. When… um. When Bucky fell. I uh. I have nightmares of it. And the war. And… well, a lot of things actually."

Tony stood and Steve flinched back. "You need help," Tony murmured, understanding dawning in his eyes.

Steve nodded hesitantly. He looked to Carol for support, and when she noticed he wasn't comfortable speaking anymore she stepped forward.

"He's… been having panic attacks," she started, glancing at Steve. "I'm pretty disappointed that none of you noticed, honestly. He's shown classic symptoms of PTSD, and those include flashbacks, nightmares and the aforementioned panic attacks. Earlier this week FRIDAY alerted me, and told me to go to the gym to help Steve calm down from a lesser panic attack, from what he's told me."

Bucky's eyes were wide, and he slowly stepped forward. "Can I hug you?" He asked Steve, quickly wrapping his arms around the taller man when he received a nod.

Steve hesitated for only a second before holding Bucky close, trembling slightly. Carol averted her gaze, wanting to give them as private a moment as possible, before turning back to the rest of the Avengers. "Now, I don't know what all of Steve's triggers are, and it may take a while for us to figure them out - I'm sure that he doesn't know what all of his triggers are, with the inability to actually explore his trauma and get help, however now that he can get a significant amount of support, hopefully he can start on the road to recovery."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Bucky questioned softly, rocking slightly from side to side in an attempt to soothe Steve.

The blond shrugged. "Didn't think it was important. Wasn't told that shell- PTSD was an actual, diagnosable thing now." He cleared his throat and pressed his face into Bucky's hair, inhaling the comforting scent.

"Seriously?" Carol exclaimed, turning to Tony with exasperation in her eyes. "You didn't tell the World War II veteran that shell-shock wasn't a thing anymore, and it's a proper mental illness?"

Tony huffed out a breath, holding his hands up in surrender. "Don't set me on fire. Thought Fury woulda caught him up to date with everything, but I guess not. Blame him."

"Oh, I will," Carol growled. She looked over at Steve and grinned. "See! Wasn't too bad, was it?"

Steve shrugged, looking up at Carol with a smile tugging on his lips. "Yeah, guess it wasn't."

 


	2. 2 - Bucky

Carol stepped into her gym, tugging her hair out of the ponytail with one hand as she slipped her jacket off with the other. She stepped into the centre of the room, toward the punching bag. She warmed herself up with a few smaller swings, before making her movements more grandiose and violent. She quickly built up a rhythm, and after a few minutes she stepped away from the punching bag and jogged over to the treadmill. She turned it on, beginning at a slow jog. She increased the speed after a few minutes, and then increased it again until she was sprinting to keep up with it. After about fifteen minutes she slowed the treadmill and stepped off of it, wiping her forehead contentedly.

"Ms. Danvers, Barnes is requesting your presence on his floor."

Carol frowned up at the ceiling, pondering FRIDAY's words. "Is it urgent?"

The response was delayed, most likely from FRIDAY questioning Bucky. "Yes, he'd like you to come as quickly as possible."

Carol picked up her jacket and slung it over her shoulder, jogging over to the elevator. She stepped inside.

"Steve's and Bucky's floor, please," Carol requested.

"Of course," FRIDAY responded.

The trip was smooth, around the same speed it had been several weeks prior when she first went to help Steve. She stepped out of the elevator, and with FRIDAY's directions arrived to where Bucky was.

His face was red, and he was standing in the middle of the room. His eyes were wild, frightened; he appeared not unlike a caged animal. His hair was a mess and he was trembling.

Carol dropped her jacket and stepped forward, holding her hands up slowly. "Hey Bucky, it's me, Carol." Bucky's gaze darted to her and he shrank back, so Carol stopped moving. "I'm not coming any closer. It's okay, Bucky. You're safe."

The man stared at Carol, chest heaving as he struggled for air. Suddenly he deflated on himself, sliding down the wall to curl up on himself. Carol noticed his shoulders shaking and went to move forward, but Bucky held up an arm.

"Don't," he pleaded. "'M not safe."

Carol huffed. "I'm pretty sure you wouldn't be able to hurt me." She briefly allowed her body to glow, and then she stopped. "I'm quite strong."

Bucky wheezed. "Ok-okay."

Quietly, but still with enough noise to alert Bucky, Carol stepped forward slowly. Bucky made no move to stop her, so she kept approaching him until she was crouched beside him.

"Can I touch you?"

Bucky barked out a harsh laugh. "That's new. Asking for permission." Though he nodded. Carol placed a grounding hand on his shoulder and he stiffened. Carol went to remove her hand but he grabbed it. "Keep it there. Please." He seemed embarrassed, and Carol offered him a small smile.

"Can you breathe in for me? Like this." She took a deep breath to demonstrate. Bucky copied her, though exhaled sharply.

"Heart's goin' too fast," he mumbled.

"Breathing slowly will help it," Carol promised. She started talking about anything and everything. How she had caught Peter in the kitchen at 2 am the other day, stealing Thor's pop-tarts. That comment earned her a smile and a chuckle, which she counted as a win.

Bucky calmed after about two minutes of Carol rambling about whatever she enjoyed.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Carol asked softly, leaving room to escape the situation.

Bucky hesitated, gaze flitting around the room. "Okay," he agreed shakily. "Um. I was just in Tony's lab, 'n I guess it reminded me of the HYDRA lab where they experimented on me…" He stopped talking, looking up at Carol with nervousness in his eyes. "It's… kinda dumb, sorry."

"No, it's okay," Carol soothed. "Torture like that is traumatising. It's understandable that it caused the panic attack."

Bucky blinked at Carol, a confused expression crossing his features. "Panic attack?"

"Yeah, that's what that was. It's what Steve has been having," Carol responded. "I'm sure you could ask FRIDAY about it. Maybe read up on PTSD a bit, hmm?" She wiggled her eyebrows teasingly, and Bucky chortled softly.

Humming, Bucky sighed. "Have you ever been told about what they did to me? HYDRA, I mean."

"A bit," Carol admitted. "But it might help to understand more if you were the one who told me."

"They brainwashed me," Bucky said without hesitation. "Made me forget my whole past. A few memories would creep through, when I was the Winter Soldier, but other than that…" he frowned. "Didn't remember anything."

"I can relate with that," Carol chuckled darkly. "When I was kidnapped and taken into space, they wiped all of my memories. I'd have nightmares, sure, but the memories were skewed. Incorrect."

Bucky blinked, almost surprised. "I remember one mission." He inhaled shakily. "I… um. I was sent. To kill Stark's parents." He looked at his hands, frowning at their trembling. "He saw the video when we were in Siberia. Tried to kill me, 'n rightfully so."

"I've seen how Tony fights," Carol said after a moment of thought. "If he wanted you dead, you would be dead."

Bucky hummed. "Huh."

"Do you remember them? Your missions."

"All of them." Bucky frowned, hugging himself briefly. "I told Tony that, in Siberia. He attacked me then. I never said I didn't regret or hate them though."

Carol furrowed her brow. "That's, not really good-"

"No, we were in the wrong," Bucky grit out. "We left him in the freezing cold bunker. Steve… Steve smashed his ark reactor. Broke a few ribs, apparently. Stark almost died."

Carol's eyes went wide. "What?" She asked softly, before she could stop herself. "That- wow."

"Yeah, I know. I'm a shithead," Bucky laughed dismissively. He went to stand and Carol followed, rising awkwardly as her legs cramped.

"Not what I meant," Carol chided gently. "You're a good person. The Winter Soldier wasn't, but you're not him."

Bucky frowned. "It was me-"

"It was the brainwashing," Carol countered. "You had no choice or say in the matter, and it's clear that you didn't want to do any of the things that you did."

"I- yeah." Bucky looked at the ground, then back up to Carol. "Thanks."

"It's no problem, Bucky."


	3. 3 - Sam

Carol walked into the kitchen at 3 am and startled, spotting a figure hunched over the table. She padded closer, and the figure turned. Carol jumped, before relaxing when she saw that it was Sam.

"What are you doing up?" Sam asked. His voice was raspy, as if he'd been screaming.

Carol shrugged. "Couldn't sleep."

"Me neither."

Carol headed into the kitchen, setting out the things to make some tea. She placed her hand on the kettle and let it boil for a few seconds before placing the teabag into a mug and pouring the boiling water in. She watched it for a minute, letting the tea steep, before she removed the teabag and chucked it into the bin, walking back over to the table and sitting beside Sam.

"What kept you up?" She asked. "Nightmares?"

"Mmhmm."

"Same."

The two did their respective things in silence. Carol downed her tea and blinked, looking over at Sam's shaking form. "You good?"

"It's been fifteen years since he died," Sam whispered, and Carol thought he hadn't even heard her. "Watched him get shot out of the sky fifteen years ago today."

"Oh, Sam." Carol frowned at him, looking at her empty mug. "I know how it feels to lose someone. Watch them get shot down in front of you."

"Got fuckin'… PTSD from it," Sam spat. "I'm supposed to be the one who helps people."

"Let me do it then," Carol suggested. "For you. Today. I've proven how good I am with it, I'd like to help you too."

Sam exhaled softly. "Yeah. Okay. I don't think I'll be able to sleep again. I'll just…" he stood and made his way over to the couch, jerking his head toward the TV. "You coming?"

Carol blinked, slightly surprised before she stood and followed him. Sam selected a show - "The Dragon Prince?" "Shut up, it's really good." - and the two settled down to watch it for a few hours.

When the sun began to rise Steve joined them. "How long have you two been up?" He asked.

"Couple of hours," Sam replied. "Her since three. I was up at two-thirty."

Steve huffed. "And you complain that I get up at the ass-crack of dawn."

"Language," Sam mumbled half-heartedly.

Steve shot a concerned look at Sam and then Carol - the latter shrugged slightly, mouthing 'he might tell you'. Steve nodded and glanced at the tv. "What show?"

"Dragon Prince," Carol replied.

Steve shot them both a 'seriously?' look, before settling and looking at the TV for a few minutes. Then he jumped to his feet again with a little, "Time for my run!" Before he darted out of the room.

Carol barely batted an eye. This was normal. What was not normal, however, was the way Sam hunched over himself, hugging himself closely and obviously making a conscious effort to breathe steadily. Carol watched him closely for a bit before the man exhaled loudly and returned his attention to the TV.

 

Throughout the day, Carol paid close attention to Sam. He was pretty good at pretending he was fine, and Carol was determined to let him know he wasn't alone. He was tricky, unlike Steve or Bucky had been; Sam was adamant that he didn't need help, because he should know how to help himself. This meant that Carol had to take casual approaches to helping him, like getting him some tea or sitting and watching movies with him. Later in the evening, when everyone was having dinner, Sam abruptly stood, excused himself quietly and left the table, probably heading for his room.

Carol stood to follow, waving away Peter who tried to follow with a concerned look on his face. Carol followed where Sam had went, with FRIDAY's help, and found him in his room sitting on the bed. He was staring at the wall, with such an empty expression that Carol felt her heart twist.

"Sam?"

The man in question jerked slightly, twisting defensively to squint at Carol. FRIDAY helpfully dimmed the lights a bit, and Carol stepped forward.

"What are you doing in here?" Sam mumbled accusatively.

"Just wanted to help a friend," Carol said softly. "I know I wouldn't want to be left alone if I felt this bad."

Sam barked out a harsh laugh. "You don't understand! All the fucking nightmares, the flashbacks, the panic- the panic attacks-" he stopped talking, swallowing roughly. "I hate it," he added, voice considerably quieter than before. "I just want to be better again."

"Talking about it will help," Carol murmured. And I do understand those things, thank you very much. "Just like how I got Steve to talk about what happened. Maybe if you talk, it will help."

Sam shook his head, almost desperately. "Not- not now. Maybe later. I'm so tired." He sank into the bed, and Carol pretended not to notice his trembling hands. "God, I hate PTSD."

Same, Carol wanted to respond. "I bet it sucks," she said instead.

"It does."

After probably an hour, maybe two, Sam spoke up again, startling Carol ever so slightly.

"Riley."

"Hmm?"

"His name."

"Ah."

Ten minutes passed.

"Knew him since I was young. We went to different colleges, but somehow ended up joining the Air Force together."

Carol shot Sam a wry smile. "I was in the Air Force apparently, before all the space shit happened. Don't really remember much of it though."

"That must suck."

Carol nodded, pressing her lips into a thin line. The two resumed their silence, the only noise in the room being the soft breaths from the two of them. After a bit, Carol noticed that Sam had fallen asleep. She stood quietly, as to not startle him awake, then left the room. "FRIDAY, let me know if he needs assistance. Even if he says no, okay?"

"You've got it, Ms. Danvers."

Carol headed into her own room with a little smile.


	4. 4 - Peter

"Carol, your presence is requested in the living room. The rest of the team is there, it appears they are getting ready for a mission."

"On my way, thanks Fri," Carol responded, jogging out of her room and toward the living area. She glanced around at everyone, sidling up beside Peter, who shifted, excitement radiating off him.

"Good, Danvers is here. Alright everyone, here's the deal. There's a whole buncha aliens in New York, and they're tearing down the city as we speak. Suit up as quick as possible and meet back here so we can head out."

"Does that include me?" Peter asked. Carol noticed the hopeful shine in his eyes, and turned to assess Tony's response.

He appeared to be getting ready to deny, but Peter's puppy dog eyes won him over. "Fine, yeah. Don't do anything dumb though."

"Hell yeah!" Peter dashed out of the room. Carol laughed in surprise, glancing over to Tony.

"Kid's gonna be the death of me," Tony grumbled.

"You love him," Carol teased.

Tony looked at her. "Guess I do."

 

A few minutes later everyone was standing on the launch pad, getting a rapid briefing from Fury.

"The aliens appear to be knocking over all the buildings, trying to squash everyone," Fury barked.

Peter stiffened slightly, and Carol looked at him curiously. He noticed and twitched his head ever so slightly to the side, and Carol obliged and looked back at Fury.

"Carol, you can fly to the city. Everyone else, on the jet."

"Oh, so you get a name, and we're just 'everyone else'. Got it," Tony joked as he stepped toward the jet.

Peter hesitated a split second too long before giggling. It sounded strained. No one but Carol seemed to notice. She nodded to Fury and stepped away from everyone else.

"See you all there," she told them, running toward the edge of the building and shooting off into the sky. She never got sick of flying through the air, especially at the speed she could go. She laughed softly, shooting off in the direction of New York city.

She landed a few buildings away from the chaos, giving the rest of the Avengers time to arrive. She frowned as she watched the aliens. They were pretty determined to give the Avengers trouble, with how violently they were knocking over the buildings. Hearing the thrum of the jet, Carol turned to greet the Avengers.

If she noticed Peter's trembling, she didn't call attention to it.

"Avengers… assemble!" Steve called, leaping down into the throng. The rest of the Avengers took off, and Carol rolled her eyes at their dramatics and joined them. She watched Peter web himself down to the ground, then got distracted by several aliens.

"Underoos! Civilian duty!" Tony barked through the comms.

Peter huffed audibly but didn't complain, slinging himself toward the buildings that hadn't yet been knocked down and entering.

Once he was out of sight Carol turned her attention back to the battle. She flew into the sky and vaporised the aliens with her photon blasts, whooping with delight.

Then, the building that Peter had last been seen going into crumbled, going down before Carol could process it.

"PETER!" Tony shrieked, and the raw emotion in his voice startled Carol. She flew toward the building, matching Tony's pace. "Peter! Can you hear me?"

A small whimper reached through the comms, and Tony stiffened beside her. "I-I'm f-f-fine!" Peter choked out. "J-just a b-bit startled!"

Bullshit, thought Carol. She didn't voice it though. Instead, she asked, "Can you get out?"

"Y-yeah!" Peter responded. His breathing was heavy, ragged. Carol - now with practice - could recognise that Peter was going to have a panic attack.

"Are there any civilians in there?" Steve asked.

"N-no, I g-got them all out-" Peter inhaled sharply, clapping a hand over his mouth to muffle a cry. Carol glanced to Tony, eyes wide with alarm.

"Peter, I'm going to come in and find you, okay?" Carol said softly, floating over toward the building.

"I-I'm f-fine! I p-promise!" Peter responded, voice shaky. He was audibly struggling to maintain regular breathing, and Carol's heart strained.

"I'm going to go in anyway, because Tony looks like he's going to have a heart attack on the spot," Carol joked, trying to draw Peter's attention away from whatever was scaring him. Carol landed and stepped toward the rubble. "Peter, can you move?"

"U-um.. n-no."

Carol hissed under her breath. She lifted a large piece of rubble and chucked it aside, finding a less-broken hallway. She dropped down into it. "Peter, talk to me." She could hear his fast breathing and knew she had to get to him to comfort him.

"A-about what?" He seemed surprised.

"Favourite movie, game, I dunno. Anything to take your mind off of this."

While Peter began talking about Star Wars with a shaking voice, occasionally interrupted with a soft, strangled cry, Carol worked on clearing the rubble and finding Peter. She noticed a piece of red; Peter's mask.

"Peter, I've found your mask. Where are you?" Carol asked.

"F-few steps away. B-b-buried-" he broke off with a gasp and a sob.

"Peter?!" Tony asked frantically. "Are you okay?"

Peter sobbed for a few seconds. "'M scared," he finally answered.

"I'm almost there, Peter," Carol soothed, stepping over some rubble. She got ready to lift a large piece of rubble when it trembled, slowly lifting by itself.

"C-come on, Peter," he whispered to himself over the comms.

Tony made a strangled noise.

"C-come on, Spider-Man!" Peter grunted, and Carol quickly stepped forward to help him. She lifted the rubble the rest of the way to reveal Peter. He was filthy, face red and tear stained. He was trembling violently, eyes wide and fearful.

"Hey, Peter."

Peter stumbled forward and caught onto Carol, beginning to sob with earnest. Carol wrapped her arms around him, carding her fingers through his hair. She murmured soft condolences, then turned and shot a photon blast into the sky to let the others know where she was. Peter flinched and whined, hiding his face in Carol's shoulder. Carol wrapped both arms around the boy tight, holding him close and secure. She knew he needed comfort more than Bucky or Steve had needed, more than breathing exercises or environment awareness. She drily noted that the latter wouldn't really help his condition.

The noise of whirring repulsors graced Carol's ears and she looked up to see Tony landing nearby. Peter flinched at the noise the suit made, and Tony unsuited as fast as possible and walked over to Peter, holding a trembling hand up.

"You're okay?" Tony asked softly, voice shaky.

Peter unlatched himself from Carol and threw himself at Tony, sobbing. Tony slowly lowered the two of them to the ground, clutching onto Peter like a lifeline and rocking him slightly.

 

Back at the tower, Tony had sent Peter to bed. So, understandably, Carol didn't expect to have him knocking at her door and nervously asking for permission to enter. Carol made a permissive grunt, and the door creaked open. Peter stepped inside and shut the door.

"I- um. Y-you helped Captain Rogers with his problems, r-right?" Peter asked quietly.

Carol perked up, interested now. "Yea, Pete. I did."

Peter picked at the skin around his fingernails nervously. "Um. I was wondering if m-maybe you could help me?"

"What kinda help we talking about here?" Carol asked, leaning back on her bed. "Physical comfort? Talking about it?"

"B-both? If you're okay, obviously-" Peter cut himself off, offering a sheepish grin. Carol noticed the anxiety swimming in his eyes, in the way his whole body was tense and trembling.

"Yeah, I'm okay with it." Carol wiggled over in the bed. "Get over here, Spidey."

Peter complied quickly, hopping into the bed and cuddling close to Carol. She felt his muscles loosen.

"I'm not going to make you speak before you're ready," Carol murmured. "We can lay like this until you're ready, Pete."

The boy nodded, not saying anything. After a few moments Carol thought he was asleep, before he spoke again. "That's not… not the first time a building was dropped on me."

Carol's eyes widened and she glanced down, though didn't react physically. "Hmm?"

"Yeah." Peter huffed out a humourless laugh. "When I was fighting the Vulture - turned out he was my then-girlfriend's dad - I found him in a warehouse. He had this really cool wingsuit, kinda like Sam's. Um. He made it crash through all the pillars in the warehouse, and then it fell on me. I got out by myself though!" Peter was really tense, and Carol suspected he was trying to stop shaking. "I'm fine now. Well, not mentally, probably."

Exhaling softly, Carol hugged the boy closer. "That's okay, Pete. You will be okay. Talking about it will help."

"Okay. Yeah." Peter inhaled softly. "That's- that's not all." He stopped speaking, and Carol waited for him to be ready to talk. "When I was- when I was nine. I had a babysitter. He- he did some. Really bad things to me." Peter hugged Carol tighter, trembling violently. "H-he'd call me E-Einstein." A choked noise escaped the boy's throat and he curled his legs up in front of him. "H-h-he'd- he would-"

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, Peter," Carol murmured into his hair. Peter breathed, the soft noise filling the air.

"N-no I- I probably should." Peter buried his face in Carol's shoulder. "He would… um. U-use me. Against my will."

Carol hugged Peter impossibly closer to her body, breathing in deep so her heart would remain slow. She hoped that her slow, steady heartbeat would help calm Peter as she murmured soft reassurances that he was safe.

"H-his name- he was called Sk-Skip," Peter mumbled after about five minutes.

"Mind me paying him a visit?" Carol asked, voice low.

Peter shook his head against Carol's neck. "Nah, he l-left the country when I t-turned twelve."

"Know where he went?"

"No."

"Okay."

They lay there for a few more minutes, Carol offering as much comfort as possible. When Peter's shuddering breaths slowed and calmed, Carol waited for a bit longer before shifting slightly. Peter whined in response, and Carol huffed out a laugh.

"Sore neck," she complained, earning a tired giggle from the boy beside her. Carol rolled onto her back and waited as Peter shuffled closer, curling up against her side.

"Mmm. You gonna ask me to tell Mr. Stark?"

Carol shifted to look at him. "You only have to tell him if you want to. I highly advise doing it, in this situation."

Peter sighed but nodded. "Maybe not tonight. 'M tired."

"That's fair," Carol replied with a small laugh. "You want to go back to your bed?"

"Hmm, I'm comfy here," Peter hummed. "C-can I stay here? I'll move if you want me to-"

"It's fine, Peter." Pause. "Can I tell Tony that you're here, though? So that he doesn't go to check on you and freak out."

Peter nodded, breathing out through his nose. "Yeah. Yeah, do that. That's fine."

Carol quietly requested FRIDAY to tell Tony where Peter was, then had her dim the lights. Peter's breathing slowed more, evening out as he fell asleep. Carol stayed awake a bit longer to keep an eye on the boy before she, too, slipped into sleep.

 

A few hours later - 3 am, at a glance - Carol woke to Peter shifting, whimpering beside her. She propped herself up on an arm, twisting to look at him.

"P-p-please, st-stop, leave- leave me alone!" Peter sobbed quietly.

Carol's heart wrenched. She knew what he was dreaming about. "Peter, Peter wake up," she whispered. When he didn't respond - instead whimpering and curling in on himself - Carol repeated her sentence louder. She rested an arm on his shoulder and the boy jerked away, eyes flying wide as he woke up.

His chest heaved as he gasped for air, eyes full of tears and trembling. He looked at Carol, taking a few moments to recognise her. When he did, he flung himself at her and sobbed.

"Hey Pete, you're okay, you're safe. He isn't here, he can't get you."

Peter wrapped his arms around Carol and she shifted him into her lap, holding her close. She carded a hand through his curly hair as she murmured condolences to him. After about three minutes he began to calm, breathing easier. His sobs lessened to sniffles and hiccups, then he leaned back and looked at her.

"Thank- thank you," he mumbled, wrapping his arms around himself awkwardly.

"Of course, Peter," Carol responded softly, as if it was ridiculous to think she wouldn't help him.

Peter offered a small, nervous smile to Carol, who returned a warm one to him. He wiggled closer to her and the two hugged while Carol manoeuvred them both to lay down. She hugged Peter closer while he fell asleep, making sure he wouldn't have any other nightmares.

The two of them slept through the rest of the night with no interruptions.

 

The next morning, Carol watched as Peter nervously pulled Tony aside. He started explaining something to Tony, then the two walked over to Carol.

"Pete's telling me he has something to say, and he wants you to be there." Tony phrased it like a statement, though his tone made it sound more like a question.

Carol nodded in confirmation. "Correct."

Peter hugged Carol quickly before turning to Tony. "I- um. The building… yesterday?"

Tony nodded hesitantly, tensing.

"It- it um. Wasn't the first time I was… buried under one."

Tony's eyes went wide and his face paled. "What?" He whispered.

"Yeah- yeah. When I was- when I was fighting the Vulture. He- he um. Dropped a building on me. I got out, don’t worry! It just… took me remembering what you said to me. After the ferry."

Looking positively horrified, Tony sank into a couch. "Oh my god."

"I'm fine now!" Peter exclaimed, rushing to Tony's side. "Mr. Stark, I'm so sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up-"

"-Kid," Tony interrupted softly. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

Peter rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, face flushing red. "I um. Didn't want you to feel bad. But then I felt bad. Really bad. Mr. Rogers bad. So I spoke to Ms. Captain Marvel Danvers!"

"Just Carol," she reminded him softly.

"Right. Yeah. Carol."

Tony suddenly tackled the boy in a crushing embrace. Peter eeped in surprise, but he burrowed into the hug and relaxed. "If something like that happens, you have to tell me. In fact, new protocol idea for Karen."

"Dad, oh my god, no-"

Tony's eyes blew wide and a small smile appeared on his face as Peter kept talking. Carol huffed out a laugh and moved to leave.

"Ms. Capt- uh, Carol! Come back here, I still have to show you vines!"

Carol chuckled and she turned back to face the boy. "You seem pretty preoccupied here with your dad."

Peter's face flushed bright red. "D-did I call him Dad?"

"Yeah, you did," Tony laughed. "Was that on purpose?"

"No…" Peter hid his face in his hands, giggling. Tony ruffled his hair, turning and standing up.

"I should go and work on those new protocols for you, Pete," he dismissed himself. "Show Carol those vines of yours."

"They're not mine, but absolutely! Carol, c'mere!"


	5. 5 - Tony

"Apologies for interrupting, Ms. Danvers, but Boss hasn't left the lab in over 36 hours and as per protocol I have to inform the closest person."

Carol looked up from her book. "What's the protocol name?" She asked, genuinely curious.

"It's the Stubborn Stark protocol."

Carol snorted. She flicked the page over before slotting the bookmark in, standing and stretching. She glanced at the clock, surprised to see two hours had passed. "Alright. Time to get sir Stubborn Stark out of his hellhole."

"I will warn you, Ms. Danvers. He appears to be in a small amount of distress. His heartrate is elevated, and he has been throwing things for the past ten minutes."

Frowning, Carol nodded and strode toward the elevator. "Tony's lab, thanks."

The elevator was eerily silent on the way down. Carol decided she preferred the usual thrum of the machinery over this. "Why's the elevator so quiet?"

"Little Boss-" Peter, probably, mused Carol, "-said that the noise distressed him, due to his enhanced senses. Boss made this elevator soundproof, so that Little Boss was able to ride down in peace."

"Makes sense," Carol hummed. She tapped her foot impatiently and started forward when the doors opened. She headed down the staircase - why have an elevator and then a staircase? \- and bodily flinched when a glass shattered against the wall.

"Fuck off!" Tony shouted.

Well this makes things so easy, Carol thought wryly. She stared at the door for a brief moment, before asking FRIDAY, "Can I get in? Does the Stubborn Stark protocol allow me to enter?"

After a brief pause, the door opened. "It does indeed, Ms. Danvers," FRIDAY responded quietly.

"Good to know," Carol whispered as she stepped inside, dodging another projectile Tony threw her way. She knew a PTSD episode when she saw one, and forcefully slowed her every movement. "Hey Tony," she called gently. "If you want me to stay here I will, but I'm not leaving this lab without you."

"Stop moving," Tony spat, and Carol obliged. The man stalked up to her, and made an approving - albeit frustrated - noise when she didn't move. Tony turned away and headed back over to whatever he had been working on, muttering something that sounded vaguely like 'dumb machine'.

"FRIDAY fetched me," Carol said hesitantly. "Activated the Stubborn Stark protocol."

Tony huffed. "That name was not my idea, by the way. Fucking… Rhodey." He frowned at the thing he had been building, slamming a hand down on the desk when something didn't make sense. His breath hitched in his throat and Carol tensed, ready to move forward to comfort him.

"Don't fucking move," he growled, a sound so low and guttural that Carol briefly felt terrified. She blinked and returned to her calm demeanour, not wanting to startle Tony.

"I'm not moving," Carol reassured him. "I will not move unless you want me to."

Tony grunted at the response, swiping his project off the bench and watching it shatter on the ground. A small smirk danced on his face, though it vanished as soon as Carol made sense of it. He stalked over to his couch, and Carol noted with a hint of relief that he seemed slightly calmer.

"You can- you can move now. If you want."

Carol nodded and slowly made her way over to him, hands held in front of her to show she was unarmed and peaceful. Tony watched her through lidded eyes before he shut them and tipped his head back, letting it rest on the back of the couch. He groaned, rubbing at his tired face.

"What happened?" Carol prodded slightly. "You don't have to tell me."

"And I sure as hell won't," Tony muttered.

Carol - wisely - didn't respond. This was going to be tricky. Tony seemed to be furious, though she was uncertain about the cause of the fury. Maybe himself, or another. Maybe his creation. What was left of it, anyway.

They sat there for a few minutes, neither speaking.

"FRIDAY told me I had to get you out of your lab," Carol began hesitantly, after the silence grew overwhelming. "It's about midday, I was thinking about getting lunch. You want some?"

Tony nodded, almost eagerly. "Shawarma sounds really fucking good right about now."

Carol chuckled. "You'll have to come out for that."

"I'm bi," Tony joked, eliciting a surprised laugh from Carol. "Can I get my food now?"

"That was hilarious, but I meant leave the lab."

Tony rolled his eyes but stood, clapping his hands together twice. Two robots whirred to life and meandered forward, beeping happily at the sight - could they see? - of Tony.

"Dummy! U!"

"Dummy?" Carol asked incredulously.

Tony whirled around, as if he had forgotten Carol was there already - she wasn't offended. "DUM-E," he explained. "Also yeah, dummy. He's a fucking dumbass."

DUM-E beeped sadly. Carol huffed out a laugh.

 

After getting considerably stuffed with shawarma, Tony and Carol lay in the living room.

"Thanks," Tony mumbled.

Carol perked up. "Hmm?" She hummed questioningly.

"For getting me out of my lab. I can be a bit of a bitch sometimes."

With a startled laugh, Carol shook her head. "Mmm, not a bitch. Stubborn, yeah, but not a bitch."

"Gee, thanks, I had the title of King of the Bitches and everything," Tony joked.

Carol spotted the brief, haunted look on Tony's face. The way his shoulders were knitted together and tense. "Something's wrong," she said after a moment. It wasn't a question. Merely an observation.

Tony sank into the couch. "Yeah," he admitted after a moment. "Don't normally get this bad, but it sucks for whoever is near me when I do."

"Want to talk about it yet?"

"No."

"Okay."

Tony snatched up a controller. "Up for a game of Mario Kart?"

Carol grinned. "You're on, King of the Bitches."

 

After several hours of Mario Kart - one round nearly ended in Carol blasting the damn TV out of the room - Tony seemed calmer, happier. Carol considered it a job well done, and went to move around and leave.

"I'm uh. Ready to talk now, if you're willing to listen."

Carol turned immediately, offering a comforting smile to the man before her. "I'm all ears," she prompted.

"You might have heard about me getting kidnapped a while back. It was in uh… Afghanistan. Might've been on my file, I'm not sure." Tony exhaled. Inhale. Exhale. "They tortured me. Tried to get me to build one of my weapons. Instead I built the first ever Iron Man suit." He ducked his head. "The man who saved my life… he died the day I escaped."

"I'm so sorry-"

"Save it," Tony muttered. "I don't want pity."

Carol wasn't pitying, she was sympathetic, though she remained quiet anyway.

"Then during the attack on- on New York." Tony tensed up slightly, rubbing at the arc reactor in his chest. "I flew a nuke into the wormhole. Saw a whole lot of stuff a regular human should really not be seeing. Surprised I haven't cracked yet, honestly."

Carol breathed through her nose. "Space is pretty daunting," she agreed after a while.

"Coming from the one who can fly at light speed," Tony retorted.

Carol snorted.

They rested in a companionable silence.

"Thanks for listening," Tony said after a moment or two.

"Of course."


	6. 6

"Control your emotions, Vers."

Carol looked up into the face of Yon-Rogg. Panic flared in her gut, though she didn't understand it. She glanced at her hand, frowning as she steadied her heartbeat.

She was then flung across the room, into what appeared to be water. The face of Dr. Lawson stared at her, and Carol swallowed a cry of alarm.

Then she was back at the crash, when she first got her powers. "All the shooting kinda gave me the wrong impression!" She screamed, holding her gun and aiming at Yon-Rogg.

"Where's the core?"

"This thing?"

She shot it.

 

Carol shot upright with a shuddering gasp. She fisted her hands into the blankets, inhaling weakly and exhaling just as fast. She rubbed at her chest, vision blurred with tears - where did they come from? she wondered blankly - and tried breathing deeper. When her breathing steadied and she deemed it safe, Carol stood and left the room. She would not be getting back to sleep tonight, no matter how early it was.

What surprised her was Steve, Sam, Bucky, Peter and Tony sitting in the living room. They all started upon hearing her, and Carol stiffened.

"Hi Carol!" Peter chirped. Carol offered him a fake smile that didn't reach her eyes. She shuffled into the kitchen to prepare some tea, glancing at the clock. She did a double take. 10 am?

"Who let me sleep in?" She asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"We all did," Tony said with a shrug. "FRIDAY told us to leave you the fuck alone or she'd turn off the coffee pot."

Carol huffed out a humourless laugh. "Yeah, okay." She inhaled and exhaled shakily, meandering toward the table with her tea in hand. She sat down and stared at it, letting the warm mug warm up her cold hands.

"Are you okay?" Peter asked softly, sitting beside her.

Carol nodded. She sipped at her tea and sighed, placing the mug back down. "Just… tired," she offered weakly, with a grunt.

"You slept for twelve hours," Peter deadpanned, digging into his massive stack of pancakes.

"Twelve?" Carol blinked at the clock, gears turning slowly in her head. "No, a lot less than twelve." She laughed humourlessly, tipping her head back and chugging the tea. She winced at how hot it was, burning her throat on the way down. "Fuck," she hissed, standing to put the mug in the sink.

"How long then?" Peter asked, eyes wide with curiosity.

Carol frowned at the clock. She remembered finally going to sleep at about 2, and then waking up three times because of nightmares. "Maybe… five hours?"

Peter huffed. "Nightmares?" He asked, really quiet. Steve shifted, in a way that Carol knew he heard Peter.

Carol blinked then, processing Peter's question. He was really observant. She nodded hesitantly. "I'm gonna get dressed," she mumbled, shuffling out of the kitchen as her heart began pounding again. God FUCKING damn it.

She stumbled into her room and shut the door, sliding down the wall. Her breaths came in shuddering gasps, and she curled up on herself as tears leaked out of her eyes. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. The word echoed around her mind, growing louder and louder. She let out a cry and threw herself away from the door, hitting the bed. She gasped, clutching at her head as the noise became louder. Her ears started ringing, and suddenly she wasn't in her room.

"Where's the core?" Yon-Rogg spat.

"This thing?" Carol nodded toward the glowing blue object. She twisted and shot it.

The heat hit her first. Then the noise. White-hot pain lanced through her body, and Carol's eyes rolled back in her head as she screamed. The power slipped under her skin and she twisted, body trying to decide whether to accept or reject the power.

"Carol!"

The voice, it sounded so much like Monica. Carol cried out, body convulsing.

"Carol! Listen to me!"

Carol stopped, confused. She felt the power flowing under her skin.

Carol blinked open her eyes. The room was lit up with a brilliant glow, and it took her a few moments to realise it was her glowing. When she came to the realisation she immediately took control, forcing her power down. She looked around and saw Peter and Tony at the doorway. Peter's eyes were wide with worry, and Tony was rubbing Peter's arm soothingly as they both watched her.

"You here with us?" Tony asked.

Carol exhaled, nodding. She opened her mouth to apologise, though found herself seemingly unable to speak. She shut her mouth, frowning.

"Can't speak?" Peter questioned gently.

Carol nodded.

"Can I hug you?" He asked, voice hushed as he stepped forward and away from Tony's protective stance.

The woman hesitated before offering a sharp nod. Peter gently wrapped his arms around her, and Carol buried her face in his curly hair, breathing in the nice scent of his strawberry shampoo. Carol shut her eyes, but a bright light flashed behind them and she opened them again with a soft whimper that she just knew Peter heard.

"You're okay," Tony said softly, approaching her. "You're in your room, at the Avengers tower. We're all here for you, Carol."

Letting out a sob, Carol nodded stiffly. She hid herself from the world, focusing on the scent of Peter's hair. She allowed it to ground her, bring her back to reality. She numbly noticed tears on her face, but made no move to wipe them away. Tony rested a firm hand on her shoulder and she accepted the touch, coming further into her own body and feeling less numb. She huffed out a breath, shuddering slightly as she calmed.

"Thank you," she whispered once her voice came back to her.

"Of course!" Peter chirped. He was grinning, but his voice hid an underlying tone of concern.

"How about a relaxation day?" Tony suggested, clapping his hands. "FRIDAY, let everyone know we're going to be watching movies."

FRIDAY hummed. "Of course, Boss."

Carol frowned. "You don't have to-"

"I don't have to do anything, I know," Tony interrupted, waving his hand dismissively. "I want to do this though. I've been dying to have a relaxation day for months."

Carol glumly accepted it.

The three re-entered the living room (after they let Carol get dressed). They seated themselves on the couch, and turned on the TV to watch a movie.

Partway through, Clint tapped Natasha and started signing to her. Carol watched, interested, though unable to understand what it was they were saying. The two shared a grin and looked back to the TV. Carol exhaled and returned her attention to the movie.

About a half hour later, Carol noticed her hearing was off. She frowned, looking around. Her vision was blurring slightly, and she was distantly aware of her heartrate accelerating. This feeling honestly terrified her, and she stood - and almost immediately fell over again as a wave of dizziness hit her. She exhaled sharply with surprise, but even that emotion felt distant. She blinked, watching as Peter approached. Suddenly his movement registered in her brain and she felt herself scramble back, but it felt as though someone else were controlling her movements. She panicked.

"Carol? Carol!"

His voice sounded so far away. Carol blinked, trying to make sense of what he said. Gears turning, she recognised the words as her name. She stopped moving and looked up.

"Breathe in for me, please?"

Carol paused. Breathe? Oh, yeah. Breathing helps. She inhaled sharply and exhaled just as fast.

"No, no, slowly, please."

Slowly? Oh. Heartrate. That's right. She breathed slower, and noticed her vision was clearing slightly.

"Can you describe your surroundings for me?" Peter asked.

It registered faster this time. Carol looked around. "Um. Kinda blurry. There's a TV in this room. Carpeted." She looked at the ground and then back up at Peter. "Chairs. Other people."

"What does the carpet feel like?" He prompted.

"Soft," Carol responded after a few seconds. She squinted at it. "It's white." She noticed that she was coming back to awareness, and looked up at Peter. "Um."

"Hi there Carol," Peter breathed, giggling. "Want some help up?"

Carol nodded, grunting in surprise at Peter's ease with hoisting her up. She stumbled but Peter caught her, settling her back into the couch.

"What happened?" Carol asked softly.

"I think you dissociated," Peter explained, voice quiet. "It happens sometimes."

Carol nodded. "Huh. I don’t think that's happened before- no, actually… it's happened a lot. Wow."

Peter laughed softly. "I dissociate sometimes as well. Never the way you do though. My worst was after- um, the Vulture incident." He shot a look at Tony then looked back to Carol. "I felt high, to be honest."

Carol huffed out a laugh, surprised. She wriggled into a comfortable position, then sank into herself after she noticed the stares the others were sending her way. They quickly averted their gazes, realising they'd been noticed, then they all resumed the movie.

 

After the movie was finished, Carol went to move to her bedroom. Peter followed, under the guise of wishing her goodnight. Carol entered her room and moved to her dresser, changing in record time and allowing Peter to enter. The teen shuffled into the room and tackled Carol with a hug, being careful to not crush her with his super strength.

Carol stiffened, surprised, before softening and allowing the hug to take place. She buried her nose into his soft hair, breathing in the strawberry scent. It calmed her, grounded her. She murmured a small thanks, and Peter hummed in acknowledgement.

 

Throughout the rest of the day, the people she helped turned around and helped her. Sam let her vent, open up about what happened to her. He sympathised with her, let her get it all out. Carol had to agree that she did feel a bit better after talking about it.

Peter charged into her room later and demanded she play a game with him. The two settled down on the couch and played video games for two hours, before Peter shot to his feet and exclaimed that he had History homework, and how he was dead if he didn't do it.

Bucky and Steve trained with her, to take her mind off things when it got too bad. She never lost control of her powers, but the two encouraged her to train hard to exhaust her, distract her. It worked.

And at night, when Carol was afraid to sleep, Tony sat in her room with her and the two spoke about anything and everything. Carol mentioned Goose, and how she had scratched Fury's eye. It made Tony laugh so hard he cried. After he was able to communicate, she asked him why, and he told her that Fury had said to Steve, "The last time I trusted someone, I lost an eye." Carol started laughing too.

Once the day was over and she was lying in her bed, thoroughly exhausted and ready to sleep, she thought about what had occurred that day. She fell asleep smiling, knowing that her friends - her family \- were always going to be there for her.


End file.
